The official notice came that morning.
All students temporarily reassigned to the West Wing could return to their original rooms.
Shi Mu stared at the message for a long time.
She didn't react—not outwardly.
But inside, something shifted.
Something she didn't want to name.
Her return to the West Wing was uneventful.
The hallway was as silent and dim as always. Her room—familiar, sterile, cold. She unpacked her bag in silence and placed the folded blanket from Room 415 at the foot of the bed.
Fu Yunshen hadn't said goodbye.
Neither had she.
But she felt it.
The absence.
Worse than any ghost.
Back in Room 415, Zhou Zhi sighed dramatically. "It's too quiet. I hate it."
Fu Yunshen didn't respond.
He sat at his desk, staring at his phone.
No notifications.
No messages.
And still… he didn't send one either.
That night, Shi Mu sat by the window, notebook open, pen in hand—but the page stayed blank.
She wanted to write something meaningful. Something that would settle the restlessness in her chest.
Instead, she scribbled:
He looked at me like he knew, but didn't ask. I looked back like I didn't know, but hoped he would.
And then she closed the notebook.
Meanwhile, Fu Yunshen opened his drawer and found the emergency blanket she'd once lent him.
He didn't know why he'd kept it.
Maybe he just needed proof that something soft had existed.
Even if it didn't stay.
[System Notification]
Emotional Divergence Initiated – Mutual Withdrawal Phase
Brotherhood Value +40 (Physical Separation – Emotional Lingering)
Current Total: 2,120 / 1,000,000
Shi Mu lay in bed that night with the lights off, listening to the distant creak of pipes and the occasional gust of wind outside her window.
No hauntings tonight.
Just memories.
And silence.